Exactly 4 years ago around this time at the ripe old age of 26, I was smack dab in the middle of house-hunting. I had been saving for a down payment for a few years and had finally hit my goal, so off I went into the world of starter homes and cute bungalows to find a house for this single gal that would be mine and all mine. Well, mine and the bank’s. At least for 15 years.
Luckily I didn’t have to deal with some of the house-hunting nightmares that others have had to endure, and I found a cute little place in the area I wanted for a great price. We were still coming out of the recession so it was a buyer’s market, and with interest rates so low, I jumped at the deal.